


the Boy

by princessofpower



Category: F is for Family (Cartoon)
Genre: Kidnapping, Murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-02-26 04:27:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13228068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessofpower/pseuds/princessofpower
Summary: If you've read my last fic, "the Death of Kevin Murphy", this is the same story from Kevin's perspective. We see what really happened to him.





	1. Chapter 1

It was a night like the nights Kevin had come to know. Locked in the tiny bedroom, submerged in darkness. The only sliver of light came from what moonlight could seep in through the boarded up window above him. Tears stung his bruised face, sobbing ever so softly. Terrified of being too loud. He could taste the blood on his lip, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand as he sniffled. 

His heart was pounding in his chest. He should be used to this treatment by now, but every beating still left him shaken. It never got any easier to endure all the pain and torment. 

His eyes were drawn to the only light in the room. He took a shaky breath. The boy had never been very religious, but perhaps he was now just desperate. He crossed himself like a good Catholic, recalling the way it was done in church. Clasping his hands together, he squeezed his eyes shut and began to pray. Not out loud, of course. He didn't dare. Just in his head.

'Please God....' he thought to himself. 'Please! I can't take anymore! Save me, please! Send someone, anyone!'.

He had constant daydreams that somebody would burst through that rickety front door and save him. His dad. A cop. His mom. Vic. Lex and Bolo. He didn't care who! 

'Please, please....' 

"Please daddy.... Please come and find me...." He quickly clamped his hand over his mouth as he realized he'd said that out loud. It was the tiniest whisper, but it didn't matter. He couldn't know if someone was listening. They could be right behind that door for all he knew! After what he'd just been through, he couldn't handle another beating. Not now. Not tonight. It would surely kill him. How much could his body possibly take? And he was weaker than he'd ever been before, on top of it all.

Maybe tonight though, he would have a good dream. It was the only thing he could look forward to anymore. Laying his head against the bare mattress, he pulled a brown and orange afghan over himself. Besides himself, they were the only things in the room. Falling asleep was never easy. He was cold, in pain, emotionally shaken. It was no wonder. But he closed his eyes, trying his best regardless. It was the only peace he got.

 


	2. Chapter 2

"Fuck! That was so great...!" Kevin laughed, stumbling across the shoulder of the highway with his two friends. He was still a little drunk from the weekend, but not completely incapacitated. 

"So glad you didn't listen to your stupid dad!" Bolo grinned, giving his friend a hard slap on the back. Kevin's dad had, unsurprisingly, forbidden him from going to the music festival. Of course he snuck out. He wasn't going to stay behind while his friends had all the fun. The biggest downer though was not being able to take Bolo's mom's car.  But, there were other ways of getting around.

"Hey, what happened to that gross chick Kevin was talking to. Did you fuck her, or what?" Lex asked, a stupid grin plastered across his face.

Kevin rolled his eyes. "Fuck, no...." Lex was right. She was pretty gross. She claimed to be 30, but she looked much older. Her skin looked weathered, and her teeth had practically rotted away to nothing. She was also unnaturally skinny, with bones sticking out in places that made Kevin uncomfortable to look at. "She was like, in a band dude."

"I didn't see her up there...."

"You were high out of your mind, dude! Anyways, I was talkin' to her cause she knows _Shire of Frodo_."

"Whoa, seriously?" Bolo asked, sticking his thumb out, an arm outstretched towards traffic.

"Yeah, she said she'd put us in contact with em'. We could like, send em a demo tape, man."

"How the hell does she know them?"

"I guess musicians just know each other..." Kevin shrugged.

They waited in the dark for someone to pull over.

"Fuck. These pricks won't even stop...!" Bolo laughed, but he was clearly getting legitimately pissed off. 

"Yeah. Cause we aren't hot chicks..." Lex told him.

It did take a little while, but eventually they saw a truck pulling over, drifting closer to where they stood.

"Finally!"

As the car approached, Kevin squinted his eyes trying to make out who was inside the 1940's Ford. It was too dark to see in from where he was, though. It wasn't until they were pulled up right in front of them and the door swung open. He recognized that choppy short brown hair and matching brown teeth. It was the gross woman. And a few of her friends, it seemed. 

"Hey, kid." She greeted him in a southern drawl. "Need a ride?" The boys nodded, but she was quick to interject again. "Only got room for one," She informed them. Kevin shrugged, stepping forward. He stopped though, as a hand grabbed his shoulder.

"Wait, Murph," Lex said. "I don't know if you should go by yourself...."

"It's cool. I'll get the phone number, and meet you guys back in the city. Another car'll stop...." Lex tried again to convince him to stay together.

"Come on, Kev.... Nobody even knows where we are."

"So?"

"What if something happens...."

The woman cut him off with a laugh. 

"Nothing's gonna happen,  Jesus!" Kevin whined. "What are you, my dad?" He brushed his friends hand from his shoulder before climbing inside, into the only empty seat. 

The drive was filled with loud radio and talking, a bottle of whiskey being passed around. Kevin took a few good gulps. He was caught up in conversation, rambling on about himself as he was asked different questions. About his band, his family, his school and what-have-you. The driver seemed especially interested. A large, hairy man, he looked like he could crush Kevin's head with one hand. But he seemed friendly. He called himself Happy, after all. He was so caught up in fact, it took him a while to realize they weren't headed in the direction of the city.

"Hey, Happy. I live the other way, man."

The woman, called Rudy, answered for him. "We're headed to our place first. Gonna give ya' that phone number."

Kevin seemed satisfied with that answer, and didn't question things any further. He focused instead on consuming their free booze and weed.

The house seemed to be some kind of farm house. In the middle of a wide open field, and up a long dirt road. As they approached, all Kevin could make out for the first few minutes was a distant, yellow, glowing light.

Kevin stumbled up the walkway, following the others. Even more uncoordinated then he'd been before. Everyone was still laughing and joking, and Kevin was excited to get his phone number! As he came in through the front door, he tripped. Falling flat on his face, just barely catching himself with his hands. He could have broken his nose! He groaned, preparing to push himself back up when a searing pain shot through his hand. He cried out, eyes shooting open. A heavy boot stood on his left hand. "You're stepping on me, asshole!" he shouted. In response, the boot seemed to get heavier, before crushing him further. As if he were putting out a cigarette. "Owwe!" Kevin howled in pain again. "Get off!"

The bearded man laughed, looking down at him. "You should have listened to your friend...." 


	3. panic

How long had it been? Weeks? It felt like months. Kevin just couldn't understand it. Why did they like hurting him so much? He could have never imagined people like this would exist. Most of the time, it seemed, if he were quiet and just did what he was told. Didn't draw too much attention to himself, he could keep himself safe. But even that tactic still failed sometimes. Especially with the two men. The woman on the other hand, well, she was almost worse. _Almost_. 

It became apparent to Kevin rather quickly that the lady was unhinged. A little delusional maybe. She'd wanted to "keep" Kevin, as she put it, because she'd never had a son of her own. She was the most gentle, but her touch was revolting. Despite the misleading sweetness in her voice, she could flip on a dime. When she felt like paying attention to him, which thankfully was not too often, she was keen on acting as his mother. Or rather, the mother of a toddler which really perplexed Kevin, being 14 and all. It was either brushing his hair, feeding him with a spoon, bathing him or any number of things. The baths were by far the worst, at least he thought. 

That day, she seemed to have another idea. Tearing open her blouse, she exposed her weathered body. Standing upright on the brown and orange shag carpeting, destroyed by years of tobacco spit. Kevin, backed into a wall of the tiny farmhouse. She tries to force his head to her chest, gripping the back of his hair tighter the more he resists. He swings his head from right to left. He has no plan of escape, but knows this is a line he is not willing to cross. "Stop it!" He calls out. "Fuck off! You're crazy!" She lets him go, only to shove him backward. His head cracking against the already busted up plaster. The blow to the head disorients him for a second. Clutching it with one hand, he knows he fucked up. 

The woman was as disgusting as the rug. Thin and weathered, with that stringy brown hair. His eyes unable to stray away from her disgusting mouth full of rotten teeth as she screams at him. An inch from his own face. “You’re always such a little pussy about everything!” she says. Her boney fist is slammed into the side of his head. For the first time, he fights back. He flails and scratches at her, any spot he can reach. Suddenly he’s pulled away. The wild mountain man. He already despised Kevin, and the feeling was mutual. 

He uses one of his massive hands to restrain both Kevin’s arms, while the other grabs a fistful of hair. Kevin keeps struggling. The only words from him he hears are “….You don’t put your hands on her….” He’s dragged kicking and screaming down the hall to the bathroom where he’s thrown to the floor like a rag doll. The next thing he knows his head is being forced into the toilet bowl. It feels like it’s held there for a minute, but it was probably only a few seconds. When he can breath again, coughing desperately trying to bring air to his lungs, he almost forgets where he is. The panic of drowning is overwhelming. His face is red as he continues to struggle. He hasn't even caught his breath yet when he feels a searing pain to the side of his head. The side already bruised from the punches. 

He's sprawled out on the bathroom floor in nothing but a long t-shirt and a pair of boxers. Struggling to breath, blood running down his face. Tears sting his eyes, vision totally blurred. Not that it matters, with the room spinning around him. He pounds a fist against his chest, coughing up water on to the floor. He can't catch his breath, it's impossible. His heart is pounding so hard, it could burst through his ribcage. Please, please! Just let this all be a bad dream! In his state of panic, nothing seems real anyways.... In utter defeat, he lays his head against the floor. Sobbing into the grubby tiles. His entire body heaves up and down. He had never been in this situation before. He didn't know how to come down from a panic attack alone, and his life could depend on it. There was always someone there to tell him everything would be okay. But it wouldn't this time. These people could easily kill him if they really wanted to. "Daddy.... I want my daddy..." he chokes out under his breath. A familiar sensation snaps him back to reality.

The feeling of his vulnerable hand being crushed under the weight of the mountain man's boot. "Fuck!" He shouts, looking up at him with an unintentionally defiant glare. The man and woman both laughed. It was disgusting how much fun they derived from torturing him. 

"You fucking pussy!" he had a wild smile as he spoke. He lifts his foot and takes a step backward. "Not so tough now, are you little boy?" Kevin could do nothing but stare back,  looking more pathetic than aggressive.

 


End file.
